A Final Farewell
by BlytheHasFreckles
Summary: Ironically, holidays are the most vicious on a mourning soul. They're described as days out of a year when families are brought together to appreciate one another. For the Seville family, that empty spot at the dinner table was a cruel reminder of loss; the absence of someone who used to fill the empty space. This is written for those of you who've lost loved ones. One-shot.


**Hello, readers. **

**I'd like to take a minute to tell you all that I wrote this story for anyone who has lost a loved one this year. For anyone who has suffered through the pain of losing a relative or dear friend. This story is dedicated to you.**

**As most of you don't know, I live only 30 minutes away from Newtown. When I heard about what had happened there, I was completely horrified (there is no other word to describe it.) I won't go into detail about what a horrible day that was and the grieving I went through after hearing about all the lives lost, but I found that I suddenly wanted to write about what I was feeling. This story is the product of my inclination to write about the grief of losing a loved one. Of course, everyone grieves in a different way...but I just thought I'd put the feelings into words. **

**Without further ado, I give you 'A Final Farewell.' **

**-Blythe**

* * *

**A Final Farewell**

A delicate coat of winter snow covered every inch of ground in Los Angeles, leaving nothing without the powdery texture of white in the early hours of morning. The Seville house stood in the midst of the gentle downpour, bearing witness to it's perfect camoflauge with each and every landing snowflake, the roof clad with a myriad of clear icicles around the rim of the top floor. Just behind the fogged windows of the Seville household slumbered two brothers who were tucked under wool blankets, neither of them consciously aware of the holiday that awaited them later that day.

Before long, the elder one of them woke up with a startle, taking no time to uproot the remaining one from his bed. He took no precautions; after all, this was the one time every year when he could be as reckless as his nine year-old maturity allowed him to be. It was also the only time of year when he, the eldest Seville brother (by age entirely), would ever bother to wake up so early in the morning before anyone else.

Today was Christmas.

"_Simon_! Simon, wake up!"

He shook his brother fiercely, but recieved no viable response. Soon, his impatient thrashing resulted to swiping away the pillow from underneath the boy's head.

"Wake up! Wake up! Simon, wake up already!"

"Alvin," moaned the victim of Alvin's wake-up call, "do you have _any_ idea what time it is?!"

"Uh, no... does it matter?"

"I should hope so! It's five o'clock in the blessed morning!"

"But it's Christmas! Wake up, wake up!"

Alvin's chanting did not soon cease. Simon was then inundated with a series of shoves, whines, and the occasional removal of bedspread until he finally realized how impossible it would be to fall asleep after the harrassment. Begrudgingly, the bespectacled brother arose from bed and slipped on his glasses and a pair of blue socks. After all, Simon enjoyed Christmas season, without a doubt. He was by no means a "scrooge."

But what troubled him was far worse than a bad case of morning moodiness. He was more troubled than he preferred to reveal to anyone else. Something inside the boy made him wish this year's Christmas could be erased from the calendar.

He forced himself to gaze at the bed at the far side of the room by the window. A bed deprived of its usual inhabitant; a bed that had remained neatly prepared and untouched since the day the Sevilles had discovered it would no longer be needed. Each pillow seemed unfluffed and deflated, giving way to the weighted layers of bedsheets that overlapped each curve of the mattress underneath. The green quilt that added contrast to the bed seemed dull and devoid of purpose - what use did the color green have without the very boy who personified it? It was a useless color... and an empty reminder of what the family had lost this year; _who_ they had lost.

A piece of furniture had never looked so lonely to Simon. In fact, he didn't even know it was possible for a piece of furniture to seem lonely. Before long, the boy was once again engulfed by his thoughts, leaving himself open to prodding by his older and much more impatient brother.

"Hurry up! Hurry up! _Move it_, ya snail!" goaded Alvin, tugging open the door of their room and stubbling into the hallway.

Simon heaved an exasperated sigh. He headed out of the room and down the staircase behind his much more enthusiastic brother in a zombie-like manner, sleep still heavily adding weight to each of his eyelids.

"Alvin, please at least wait for Dave to wake up-"

"Yay! Santa dropped the motherload this year!" yelled Alvin from the living room among the sounds of paper ripping. The more mature brother rolled his eyes, taking longer to enter the room than the amount of time it took his older sibling to tear open the first two presents under the tree, one of which was Simon's.

"Look, Simon! I got a new skateboad!" the boy bragged, "It's the one I wanted from the X-Treme Sports catalog!" The boy moved toward the other gift he'd opened in his spirited frenzy, "Oh, and I don't know what this is, but you got it for Christmas!"

"Alvin," groaned Simon, "This is why Dave needs to be here when we open gifts! Sometimes he doesn't put our names on the presents-"

Halfway through his brother's lament, Alvin held up a long, narrow box of what contained the very thing Simon had been longing for since the beginning of the year. A gift Simon had intended on saving his money to buy: the Smithsonian Genius Ultra-Scope 2000. Taking the box from his brother, Simon felt the weight of the item sitting heavily in his arms. It was no secret that the contraption cost Dave a fortune...

But when he'd been longing for the Smithsonian Genius Ultra-Scope 2000, the idea of owning it seemed much more exciting to him compared to the way he felt about the gift now. As he read the glossy description on the back of the box, Simon hoped a spark of excitement would come upon him at some point. He waited for it, but it did not come.

"Oh...w-wow..." uttered Simon mindlessly, "The Smithsonian Genius Ultra-Scope 2000. I...never thought I'd have one of my own..."

The more Simon looked at his new gift, the more the feeling of desolation consumed him. After all the time he'd spent earlier in the year begging Dave for the science tool he held in his hands, he felt as if it were all in vain. Dave was indeed being thoughtful... but the untimely manner of this gift was enough to nauseate Simon. He was in no place to receive such generosity. Sure, it was Christmas, but it wasn't the same. Under the festively decorated tree were gifts for just three Sevilles... not four like last Christmas.

Simon placed his expensive new toy on the ground and sat on the couch to watch his brother shred through the remainder of the gifts. It comforted the blue-clad chipmunk to see a smile finally replace the gloom Alvin had been used to wearing for the months following the incident.

Alvin may have struggled with loss far more upfront than anyone else in the family - the fist-sized holes in the upstairs drywall were evidence of that. Simon was the opposite, choosing to escape from the grief by occupying himself with a novel or a science experiment. Since the incident, Simon had grown skilled at hiding all feelings from the world - and this included tears. Those fews months the family had spent in grief were tearless for him. Even now, he intended to keep it that way.

However, today would be happier than days spent months earlier - Christmas always had a way of igniting excitement in the boys. Although the pain would come back soon after the day was over, Simon decided it was best to enjoy the spirit of Christmas while they were still young enough to appreciate it. After all, Alvin finally looked happy again. It wouldn't last beyond today, but why not enjoy it while it's here?

Another Seville entered the room, expressing just as much energy as anyone would at five o'clock in the morning. With a head of ruffled, unkempt hair, Dave strode into the living room area to join his two sons. His disposition quickly changed upon seeing the catastrophe of savagely torn wrapping paper spread out from one end of the room to the other.

"Good morning, fellas! Merry Christma- Oh my goodness! ….ALVIN!"

"Yes, Dave?"

"What are you doing? Why didn't you wait for me to at least get downstairs first before you began opening everything?!"

"Eh...hehehe...I got excited," admitted the boy, a bit flustered at the sudden realization of the messed he'd created around them. Innocently, he held up a present in hopes of amends, "...present?"

* * *

The day proceeded as planned, starting off with opening the remaining presents - ones that were unscathed by Alvin's craze. Following their tradition of opening presents was another tradition: breakfast with apple oatmeal, cinnamon buns, and a cup of hot cocoa. It was the perfect natural remedy to Alvin's annual post-present depression.

However, the eldest chipmunk wasn't the one with the blues this year. It was Simon. And this wasn't just any ordinary case of the blues, but rather the very feeling he thought he'd gotten rid of months back: the inability to adjust to change. He felt uncomfortable sitting in the kitchen to eat breakfast even on Christmas morning; the kitchen was Theodore's favorite place in the house. Worst of all, Theodore was usually the one that made breakfast for everyone on Christmas morning as part of their tradition. Dave had cooked it this paritcular morning in the chef's absence, which was why breakfast tasted dull - Theodore wasn't there to cook it.

"What's the matter, Simon?" asked Dave, "you haven't touched your oatmeal. Is something wrong?"

Simon stirred the pasty liquid in the bowl in front of him, resting his arm on the table, "well...it's nothing, really..."

"Are you disappointed about something you got this morning?"

"No! No, i-it's great!" assured Simon, "It's not that at all..."

"If something's bothering you, you can tell me."

"I know... I just..." the boy let out a sigh, turning his body in the direction of his father, "...I feel-"

Right as Simon tried to explain, a melodic sound echoed through the house, catching Dave's attention. It was the doorbell to the front door.

"Oh, hold that thought, Simon. Let me see who it is..."

Moments passed in silence as the remaining two boys poked at their morning meals, each of them thinking about the difference of taste the food had now that the person who made it wasn't the same as last year. The two remained silent, not bothering to speak up or begin conversation.

Before long, there came trilled voices from the front of the house, each one sounding like the clear ringing of a glass bell - cheerful and feminine. The sounds came closer as the guests ventured down the hall and into the kitchen. Joining the boys at the table were two chipettes, one clad in a purple snow jacket and purple scarf, and the other in a matching assortment of pink and white. Simon expected another chipette to emerge from the doorway to add green and yellow to the color equation, but she did not. Theodore's counterpart was missing.

"Oh, I'm just so glad you all seem to be having a jolly Christmas!" belted Miss Miller upon her entrance to the kitchen, "hello, boys! Did you have a lovely time seeing what Santa brought you this morning?"

Slightly bewildered by their sudden exposure to Miss Miller's energy, the boys each gave a nod, making a place in the kitchen booth for their female friends to sit down.

"The girls and I just wanted to stop by and help spread a little Christmas spirit! Oh, we all just LOVE this time of year! Don't you agree?"

"Of course, Miss Miller," said Dave politely, "Would you and the girls like to stay a while? We'll need a little help preparing dinner for tonight."

Dave took a moment, peering around the room and back into the hallway, "Speaking of preparing dinner, where's Eleanor? I thought she'd like to help."

Brittany and Jeanette exchanged glances, then looked back at Dave.

"Uh... Eleanor...isn't feeling too well today," admitted Jeanette, twirling a few tassles of her scarf with her fingers, "so she stayed home."

"Yeah," joined Brittany, "we figured she just wanted a little alone time today."

Silence interrupted the light-heartedness of the room. It felt like the type of silence a group of people experience after a fight, or when a well-kept secret had just been revealed unexpectedly. Simon knew exactly why this topic was delicate - Eleanor was Theodore's best friend...and she hadn't been inside the Seville house since the funeral.

"Well, alright," replied a hesitant Mr. Seville. There was another pause.

"H-how about we...um...play some board games?" offered Jeanette softly, "we could play Parcheezee!"

The agreement was unanimous. After breakfast, the Sevilles and their guests all headed into the living room space for a board game or two.

The day continued merrily into sundown with the Millers, board game after board game until there was nothing left for the boys and their frends to do other than to play with the toys they'd all recieved that morning while the adults chatted over coffee. Jeanette had brought over her new chemistry set, complete with an organized variety of new metals and alloys to experiment with while building homemade batteries. Simon showed her what he'd been given for Christmas, revealing the box containing his expensive new scientific tool: The Smithsonian Genius Ultra-Scope 2000. Jeanette let out a gasp.

"Wow, Simon! How did you convince Dave to get you that for Christmas? Haven't you been saving up to buy this for a year already?!"

"Yeah," sighed the bespectacled chipmunk, "and it'll probably be just as terrific as it looks in the magazines once I build it."

"I can help you build it if you'd like...?"

"No thanks, Jeanette," exhaled Simon, "maybe later... just not now."

"Why? Is something wrong?"

Was something wrong? It depends on what she meant by 'wrong.' In truth, the boy had been feeling 'wrong' since he'd rolled out of bed that morning. It wasn't lack of sleep that put him in a bad mood. No, he'd been feeling 'wrong' for a while.

For a long time, Simon owed himself a lot more than what he'd forced himself to think about. School, friends, homework, studying - these were all things he'd used as his escape from thinking of what his mind really wanted to think about. Ever since the incident, he'd been pulling away from the truth more and more every day until it was too far away for him to reflect on. Now it was Christmas, which meant he had to come to terms with the reality of his brother's permanent absence.

Theodore, his little brother, was gone...and he wasn't coming back. Not even for Christmas.

The thought hit him like a pile of bricks, suddenly causing him to feel the need to be isolated. As much as he cherished the time he spent with Jeanette, he realized he wouldn't make it through the night without getting all these built up feelings of bereavement to dissolve. Placing the heavy box of equiptment, he headed for the coat closet by the front entrance of the house. Jeanette followed right behind him, concerned.

"Simon, hold on a second. Where are you going?"

He paused before responding to his counterpart, pulling on his snow boots, "I'm going for a walk. I'll be back in a little while, okay?"

"Okay. Would you like some company?"

"No. I'd like to go alone. I just...I need some time to think.."

Reluctantly, Jeanette nodded and helped him put on his winter attire, "I'll tell Dave. I'm sure he'll understand... Just be sure to come back soon so that he doesn't worry."

"Thank you Jeanette," said Simon. He tugged open the front door, "I'll be back before dark."

* * *

Simon strode at a leisurely pace down the snow-covered street. He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets as the bitter cold of the evening filtered through his gloves and nipped at his fingertips. Snowflakes drifted down onto parts of his jacket and stuck to the lenses of his glasses, but he hardly noticed, drowned within the deep thoughts that encompassed him.

Lawn decorations of reindeer and rooftops lined with christmas lights crowded his view of the snow dusted streets as evening began to fall. The sun was golden in the distance, peeking out from behind a horizon of frosted pine trees and evergreens. If it was possible for a day to actually look like Christmas, it would've been today.

The only problem was that Simon couldn't bring himself to celebrate it.

In their own ironic ways, holidays were the most vicious on a mourning soul. They're described as days out of a year when families are brought together to appreciate one another...and as for families who've lost someone, the empty spot at the dinner table is a cruel reminder of the one who used to fill the space. This was certainly true for the Seville's dinner table as well as a third of the boys' bedroom. Even an entire half of the refrigerator was Theodore's... The idea overwhelmed Simon, causing him to feel as if at any moment, he would need to let it all out before he fell victim to a breakdown.

_No,_ he thought,_ calm down. Relax. Don't do anything irrational._

However, his attempt to push away the stress only made him feel worse, making his knees feel like they would buckle from under him. Without thinking, Simon began running. He didn't know where his legs were taking him, but he didn't stop. With his entire neighborhood behind him, he kept going. His feet ached, his breath was harsh and stung with each inhale of stale, frozen air, and his eyes burned, but he kept running. Past the corner store and through town, Simon ran with the wind at his back and without knowledge of his destination. His ears pained from the chill of winter, but he focused on the sounds of his own panting. The memories of that horrible day resonated more clearly to him than the scuffing of his feet against the sidewalk pavement.

From TV...  
_"According to the county medical examiner, there were several reported fatalities today..."_

From Dave...  
_"Fellas...that was the police at the door...Th...Theodore won't... be coming home."_

From Alvin...

_"No, you're lying! That's a lie! It can't be! I-i saw him just this morning!"_

And worst of all, from Eleanor...

_"I...I don't understand...! Wh-what do you mean he didn't make it?!"_

_"W-we were supposed to go to cooking class together tonight! We were...we were going to make his favorite!"_

_"I didn't even get to say goodbye!"_

_**'Goodbye.'**_

Then it hit Simon; maybe that's what was bothering him this whole time.

He hadn't said goodbye.

Turning the corner, Simon began to slow down as he approached Hillside Cemetary. He passed the gated entrance and headed uphill toward the west side of the cemetary until he came upon the patch of land in which Theodore had been buried.

As he searched up the path toward Theodore's grave, he noticed a small, pear shaped figure standing in front of it in the distance. This was strange - normally he wouldn't have guessed that people would be visiting dead relatives on a day like Christmas. Especially not at dusk. And who was this strange person blocking the view of Theodore's grave?

It was Eleanor.

"Eleanor?"

The guest turned around, revealing her despondent complexion. She had been crying. Tear streaks lined unevenly over her skin, and the rosy cheeks Eleanor had been known to exhibit were blood red.

She gazed up at Simon with a pair of tired eyes, "Hello, Simon."

"How long have you been here? Did someone drive you?"

"No. I walked here a little while back."

"Oh."

"What about you? Did someone drive you here?"

"No, I walked here, too."

"Okay."

Their brief exchange left the two in silence for a little while. After all, they each didn't know what could be said. They'd come here to mourn the loss of the same person, intending to be alone when they did so. Simon searched for something he could say to Eleanor, but came up with nothing. What exactly does someone say when bumping into a friend at a cemetary?

He cleared his throat, moving his attention from Eleanor to the gravestone.

The two of them said nothing. Ten minutes passed in stillness until Eleanor broke the muteness with a question.

"Should I...should I be moving on from this, Simon?"

Simon furrowed his eyebrows, "huh?"

"They say that after months have passed after a death, a person should move on. But...I...I don't know how to."

Simon said nothing, crossing his arms as the cold crept its way into his coat.

"Theodore was my best friend, Simon. That morning, everything was fine a-and...and then I came home and they said he was _gone_! Out of nowhere, he was just gone. Every day when I go to school, I have to think about the fact that Theodore isn't going to be there...a-and I always come home thinking there's no reason to want to go to school the next day. B-but I go anyway b-because I _have_ to..."

She inhaled sharply, her voice trembling.

"I can't get used to the fact he's not there anymore. I-i kept thinking that it didn't happen a-and that he'll be waiting at my front door at five o'clock every Thursday to cook with me, but he never is! It's like I'm replaying that day over and over again a-and...I just wish I could _forget_ it! I don't _want_ to remember that day anymore!"

Again, Simon could think of nothing to say. He remembered that day too well - way more than he wanted...and like Eleanor, he often wished he could forget it. He remembered how Dave didn't leave his own bedroom for several hours after informing Alvin and Simon of the news, leaving the two brothers feeling confused and grief-stricken as they listened to his muffled sobs from the other side of the door. He remembered the crackling sounds Alvin's fists made as they pounded into the drywall, and how difficult it was to watch Dave restrain Alvin from punching the wall over and over again, despite the fact his knuckles were bleeding. He remembered the way Eleanor's vibrant brown irises shrunk after hearing the devastating news...and how she wouldn't eat for several days after. He remembered the funeral and the feeling of emptiness after having lost someone who was always there.

But most of all, he remembered the day he'd locked away his emotions, not even feeling comfortable with a smile or a laugh. He remembered that day more than any other.

Simon reached out to Eleanor, pulling her into a warm embrace. Eleanor returned the embrace, sinking her face into the crook of his arm.

"Why does this happen? Why did it have it happen to Theodore? _Why,_ Simon?"

Simon's entire body felt heavy as he contemplated the question. It was if he hadn't had sleep for days, even weeks. Why? Why Theodore? Why was Theodore's life taken away so abruptly after he'd done absolutely nothing wrong? Why couldn't it have been anyone else? Of the three brothers, why was the innocent one of the bunch picked off without so much as a goodbye? It just wasn't fair.

Theodore's voice began to echo in his mind:

_"I think Mom would've wanted us to be happy. All mothers want that for their children."_

_"Whenever the dough feels a bit too sticky, just add a little more flour to the mix!"_

_"Look, Simon! I made your favorite!"_

_"You guys are the best brothers a guy could ask for!"_

"I...don't know, Eleanor," breathed Simon, "I don't-."

His thoughts became a twisted flurry of anguish and confusion. Unwelcome visions of his memories with Theodore flooded back and he tried with everything he had to suppress them as he'd been doing for months, but it was no use. Tears began to form in the corners of his eyes and before he had enough control to pull them back, they began to overflow. That's when it happened...

Simon was_ crying_.

Simon, the most sensible of the three chipmunk brothers, was losing his strong composure. From out of nowhere, tears gushed out of his eyes in fast rivulets over his cheeks and onto Eleanor's coat. He had nothing to say, he could think of nothing else to do. He just cried.

_"I'll have a tostada grande, two quesadillas..."_

_"Here, Alvin! You can sleep with my bunny!"_

_"If you're having a bad day, I could make you some black and white cookies...?"_

_"Don't worry! I-I'm sure the other kids will like you just the way you are!"_

_"We're family. And as a family, we have to love each other most of all b-because that's what families do!"_

The blue-clad chipmunk tipped his chin toward the sky, trying his hardest to prevent the oncoming tears forming in his eyes from spilling. His lip trembled as memories of his younger brother poured back into his head. Every smile, every laugh, every pout and even every temper tantrum Theodore had flitted through his mind. He began to feel the pain all over again; the heartbreak and misery he'd felt the day Theodore didn't come home. The physical feelings of chest pain and heaviness throughout his whole body.

_"So YOU'RE the one who unplugged my walnut crusher!"_

_"Oh! It's bad luck to question fate that way!"_

_"Don't you worry! I'll be back before dinner!"_

_"It's okay to let people know how you really feel, Simon..."_

_"Wait! Before you go, you have to say goodnight to my teddy!"_

_"I know you can do it, Simon! You're the smartest person I know!"_

_"It's okay to be sad! Everyone gets sad every now and then!"_

"I don't know, Eleanor," sobbed Simon quietly, "I don't know!"

Feeling his tears sink rain over her coat, Eleanor realized what was happening. She remembered Theodore's funeral in that moment, and how Simon had remained hollow and emotionless during the proceedings of the day. Simon hadn't said anything to anyone, nor had he let himself grieve. As she dove more into thought, she realized that since the incident, he'd become more shielded from the rest of the world. And what was happening was a breakthrough...

"It's been a while since you've cried...hasn't it?"

Simon didn't speak, but she could feel the movement of a nod. She hugged him tighter, smoothing a comforting hand over his back.  
"It's okay, Simon, it's okay. You've been strong for a long time. You owe yourself time to grieve."

Eleanor and Simon stood amid the chill of December at Hillside Cemetary, each of them grieving from the loss of their friend and brother - the one who was gone too soon. Neither of them said a word for the remainder of their visit.

* * *

By the time they got back to the Seville house, the night sky was presented to them in its utmost beauty; the stars glowed above their heads in a resplendent canvas of soft whites and blues, humbly sharing the sky with a proudly lit crescent moon and a small tufts of cirrus clouds here and there. It was a perfect night sky for stargazing. But Eleanor and Simon couldn't delay themselves on their journey home. After all, they were expecting to get an earful of lectures upon their arrival.

Well...that was what they were _expecting_ to get. What they _really_ got was much different:

"Simon! We're so glad you're back! We have a surprise for you!"

"Eleanor! Welcome! We're so glad you could make it!"

"It's about time you two showed up!"

"Oh, how wonderful! Now everyone's here!"

Jeanette joined Simon's side, tugging him by the sleeve of his shirt, "Come upstairs to the attic! I've got to show you something!"

Abruptly, Simon and his counterpart headed up the stairs to the second floor, then continued onto another flight of stairs to the attic before he'd even gotten enough time to adjust to the warm change in temperature from the outside chill to the warmth of the indoor fireplace.

Simon couldn't help but grin a little bit as Jeanette stumbled over the top two steps to the attic space, "Whoa, Jeanette! Slow down before you hurt yourself! ...What is it? We never go into the attic anym-! ...WOW!"

Simon was stunned as soon as the attic light flickered on: in all its glory, the Smithsonian Genius Ultra-Scope 2000 stood before them at nearly six feet tall, stationed right by the attic window. It towered over the two as they gazed up at it's metallic elegance, each of them bewitched by it's outstanding presentation.

"It really is as beautiful as it looks in the magazines, Simon!"

He stepped toward the contraption, hypnotized by it's exquisite structure. Carefully, he smoothed his fingers over its stainless steel neck while he gawked at its features.

"...Did you build this while I was gone?"

"Well actually, we all did."

Behind Jeanette ascended the rest of the crowd: Dave, Alvin, Brittany, and Miss Miller. Each of them wore a warm smile.

"We thought it might make you feel better," said Dave, "since you looked a bit glum this morning."

"And we all know how much you like that science-y stuff!" added Alvin proudly.

Simon couldn't help but laugh at his elder brother. _Typical Alvin._

"So...Do you like it, Simon?" asked Brittany.

He nodded, a feeling of warmth spreading throughout him, "I do. Thank you all so much...I-i _really_ appreciate it!"

Eleanor shyly emerged from behind the small crowd of people, taking a moment to notice the telescope he was marvelling over.

"I-if you all wouldn't mind, I'd like to take a moment to test it out. This might take a little while, but I'll let you all know when I'm finished. Is that alright?"

"Oh, take as much time as you need, sonny!" chirped Miss Miller, "After all, we just finished making gingersnaps downstairs!"

"That's right!" concurred Dave, "That reminds me! I should probably take them out of the own in a minute or so..."

With that, the crowd descended down the attic stairs. Eleanor began to follow.

"Ooh! I love gingersnaps..."

"U-uh-! Eleanor!" blurted Simon, "C-can I speak to you...for just a minute?"

Eleanor turned to the blue-clad chipmunk, a smile gracing her lips, "Sure, Simon! Just not for long! Gingersnaps are no fun to eat when they're cold, y'know!

Simon chuckled, stepping out from behind his telescope and standing in front of her. He took a moment to make sure everyone was gone, then he spoke up.

"...I...I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for today."

Eleanor said nothing, but merely tilted her head.

"What I mean is... I just appreicate that you were there to visit him today...o-on Christmas. That you were honoring his memory...e-even though he's not here anymore."

She nodded in understanding.

"And also," he continued, "I just wanted to apologize for...falling apart on you. I didn't expect that it would happen and...if I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry."

Eleanor's persona changed immediately from pleasant to sassy, putting her hands to her hips the way her oldest sister does during a confrontation.

"What do you mean, '_sorry_?'" she laughed, "What is there to be _sorry_ about, Simon?"

"I fell apart...a-and I-"

"Nonsense." she interrupted, "don't _ever_ be sorry about that sort of thing. It was out of your control."

Simon wilted a bit, "I guess so..."

"Besides... I think it showed quite a bit of strength."

The chipmunk looked up from the ground, "huh?"

"Crying may not be 'macho,' but I can tell you've been needing to get rid of some demons for a while. You needed to let yourself go. And today, you did!"

He gave a solemn nod.

The smell of gingersnaps permeated through the house, reaching the second and third floor of the house. Simon noticed Eleanor's sudden interest in the aroma and chuckled softly, motioning to the staircase that lead from the attic to the second floor.

"Go ahead, Eleanor. Those gingersnaps smell delicious."

"Boy, do they!" chimed in the blonde chipette, racing down the stairs, "Aren't you coming?"

Simon shook his head, "I'll be down in a second. I just need to calibrate these dials."

"Okay."

Before exiting the basement, Eleanor turned to Simon one more before closing the door behind her, "H-hey Simon?"

"Yes?"

"...Theodore would have been so proud of you."

With that statement, Eleanor left him to experiment with his telescope alone. He took a moment to take in her profound words, smiling in a way he hadn't for a long, long time.

* * *

An hour before midnight, Simon returned to his telescope in the attic for just one more episode of stargazing. Everything about his terrific new instrument was just as wonderful as it was advertised - every dial and every magnifying lens was perfectly crafted and formed with precision, every constellation was perfectly mapped out in the sky clear enough for him to see without too much adjustment...even the eyepiece worked out fine for a person like him who struggled to see through his glasses! It truly was the perfect tool for his astronomonic studies.

However, what he really liked most about being in the attic was the solitude. He was away from everyone else long enough to really allow himself to think.

And tonight, he was finally going to allow himself to think about something he'd been pushing away for too long: Theodore.

He needed to say goodbye.

Simon sat under the celestial reflection of the moon and watched the night sky without the help of his telescope. The floor of the attic was still a bit dusty from under him, but he didn't mind. All he felt was a fulfulling sense of ease. The quietness of the attic cleared every worry and every bad memory away. He was ready.

Ready to speak to his brother.

"Theodore, i-if you're listening, I have something...that I've been meaning to say to you." he started hesitantly, "And...I've been keeping this from you for longer than I should've."

He took in a breath and released it, opening his eyes to the night sky once more.

"Remember...all those times when you were bullied by those kids at school and I kept telling you on the way home that you needed to be strong and stand up for yourself? Well...I...I feel like a huge hypocrite for saying that to you. I feel like a hypocrite b-because...I haven't been strong recently, Theodore. I've been a coward. Ever since you went away, I-i've been nothing but a _giant coward._

"You see, you were always so good about telling people how you feel...a-and it seems that I just don't have that trait. Even Alvin's better than me at displaying his true feelings! He's a prima donna most of the time as you know, but at least he's not made of hollow material like I am... This whole time, I've managed to convince myself that being strong meant locking everything away and pretending like nothing happened. I kept telling myself that if I just forget it, it can't hurt me. Boy, I couldn't be more _wrong_... By forcing it all away, it only piled up more and more until it was unbearable. When I broke down in front of Eleanor, I'd never felt anything like it in my life. But it felt _good_! It felt like I was _finally_ able to be strong, Theodore."

Tears began forming in the corners of Simon's eyes again. But this time, he let them go, allowing himself to weep softly.

"I _miss_ you, buddy. I miss you so much! Every time I wake up in the morning, I wish you were there to wake up, too. I miss your heavenly cooking and your goofy, naive sense of humor...a-and I even miss the way you'd wake up Alvin and I past midnight when you had a nightmare! We all miss you, Theodore. You left too soon for all of us. There are only three of us now and it feels so empty...Especially on Christmas..."

Moving his glasses slightly, he wiped away salty tears that were running down his cheeks. He took another breath to regain.

"But...e-even though things around here have never been the same since the incident, at least I know now to honor your memory by recalling the good times instead of the bad. And that's what I wanted to tell you tonight. I wanted to tell you that I'm finally ready to be strong and let go of what's been building up on my conscience for several months now... Because that's the way you would've wanted it; you wouldn't have wanted me to remember all those horrible memories of the day you passed away. You would've wanted me to remember you the way you were during those good memories we shared while you were here. And tonight... I can finally do that because I'm letting go. I remember those good times, Theodore. I remember _all_ of them."

Simon sniffled a bit, letting the remaining tears fall from his eyelashes and onto his lap. All the weights that'd been saddled on his shoulders were finally beginning to take flight, leaving him with a refreshing feeling of weightlessness. He rose to his feet, stepping to the attic window and resting his arms on the windowsill, gazing out.

"Thank you," he whispered, "Thank you for the memories."  
At that moment, a shooting star streaked through the sky and then promptly disappeared. Despite his scientific knowledge on comets, Simon took it as a sign - a final goodbye made just for him from Theodore. He smiled softly.

_"Goodbye, Theodore. Merry Christmas."_

* * *

Thank you for reading!

-Blythe


End file.
